A Stay of Execution
by Gruber Kurz
Summary: Delilah, the witch who tried to have Daud killed is hiding out up the Wrenhaven River. Daud needs a boat if he's to put a stop to her. The only person who might be willing to help is Lizzy Stride, a gang leader out of Draper's Ward. The problem? Lizzy is in Coldridge Prison. Daud has no intention of letting her stay there.


Even after all these years, Daud still wasn't used to the stench of the sewers. It hung in the air like cobwebs, gripping his skin as he walked through it. More than just piss and shit. Decay. Weeper pus. And, more so than ever, death. He didn't breathe through his nose until he had stepped out into the canal and shut the gate behind him.

The arrhythmic clang of the Overseer's music played on the edge of hearing, like iron filings drifting on the breeze. Daud's ears twitched as Thomas, the blue leather of his Whaler uniform clean despite the muck dripping from the pipes overhead, stepped forward.

'Daud, Lizzy Stride is in there, but we don't know where they're holding her. They're playing Overseer music from the loudspeakers. We couldn't get in.'

'Why the music?'

'One of their prisoners. A spy caught at Dunwall Tower. The guards have sent for Overseers to investigate.'

Daud nodded. _They must suspect black magic. Perhaps this spy was working for Delilah._ 'I'll be back with Lizzy Stride. Stay hidden.'

Thomas bowed his masked head and vanished with a sound like a whistle.

Daud stepped down into the canal, now a gully coated in mud and stagnant pools of green-black water since being drained. A ragged rock wall stood before him, a green line marking where the water once rose to. Sitting atop it were the high white walls of Coldridge prison, a great block of stone draped in the red and black flags of the Regent and striped with the thin, barred slots that passed for windows. A black bridge stretched over the canal from the open gate and barbed wire coiled along most of the walls. The place was a fortress. _But no fortress is impregnable. Not even Dunwall Tower._

The mud was inches deep and squelched around Daud's boots, smelling of rotten hagfish eggs and the shit from Dunwall Tower. The Overseer music was louder out here, pressing on the night air like a lead blanket, making Daud feel heavy and unbalanced.

He approached the rock wall beneath the prison. The surface was almost sheer but lined with cracks and hand-holds. A few feet above the green waterline was the remains of a collapsed staircase that wound its way unevenly to the wall above. Usually, the climb would have taken all of a moment, a simple transversal to the top. The Overseer music had already kept his assassin's from getting in. But it would take more than mechanical music to keep Daud out.

The rock was slick and green, still wet from before they blocked off the canal. Daud took his time, ensuring his grip was tight before hoisting himself up. More than once his foot slipped, the mud on his boots not helping. Sweat leaked from his forehead and his breathing got heavy as the muscles in his thick arms pulsed with the effort. It was oddly invigorating, doing things 'the old-fashioned way'. He was reminded of his days in Serkonos, fleeing from the Guard over walls and under fences, darting through alleyways and finding the pathways to the rooftops. He was glad he hadn't neglected his body once he received the Outsider's mark. Some of the others were becoming complacent, almost dependent upon the power he shared with them, Blinking to places they could as easily walk, relying on their Vision instead of their senses.

 _How many of my men could make it up here without falling? How many even considered it once they heard the music?_

Daud's reached up past the flat steps and gripped what remained of the guardrail, hoisting himself up. He took the steps two at a time, not hesitating to wonder if they would crumble or not. They held and he was at the prison wall within a minute. A loudspeaker hung directly above his head and he could feel the music pouring from it like molten iron from a forge, heavy and slow. A watch officer lounged against the rail on the bridge to his right, a thin curl of blue smoke rising from the cigarette in his hand. Daud turned and leaned forwards, one hand on the wall, and looked down into the canal. The climb had seemed short but it was clear from the top that a fall would be fatal.

 _Even with the water, Corvo was a madman to jump._

Using a small ledge jutting from the wall Daud climbed to the top and over the barbed wire. He looked over the wall and saw a courtyard. A raised platform stood in the centre with four men on it: three in Watch uniforms kneeling, hands bound behind their backs, and a guard in an officer's jacket standing behind them. He was loading a pistol. Across the yard was a covered viewing platform where a captain stood holding a piece of paper. A wooden walkway ran along the edge of the courtyard. Daud rolled off the wall and landed on it, keeping himself low behind the short barrier.

'Corporal Hamrick,' the captain read aloud, 'you failed to appear for service on the day of Corvo Attano's disappearance from custody. For gross dereliction of duty, and the reasonable suspicion of treasonous conspiracy, I hereby sentence you to death. Ready. Take aim. Fire!'

Daud peered over the barrier and watched as the officer raised his pistol to the back of the first prisoner's head. The gunshot clashed with the Overseer music, filling Daud's head with a mess of sound. The body fell forward, blood pulsing from the hole that had been its head. The faint hint of burnt whale oil touched his nose moments later.

Daud watched the guard load another round into his pistol and then looked to the prison for a point of entry. He spotted a rusted grate in the prison wall with a long yellow pipe below it. Daud crouched along the walkway towards the viewing platform, where the captain was reading the next name.

'Private Morris, you refused to pursue Corvo into the sewer complex on the day of his escape. You displayed cowardice in the face of national crisis, and I hereby sentence you to death. Ready. Take aim. Fire!'

The shot sent Morris forward, slumped in the gore of his ruined skull.

 _They don't hesitate to kill their own._

The final prisoner's face was blank, eyes level, facing forward. The executioner loaded a final bullet into his pistol as Daud jumped from the walkway barrier to the roof of the viewing platform. The captain read the final name.

'Watch Officer Thorpe, you provided Corvo Attano the means of his escape and have confessed to receiving both money and plague serum in return.'

 _An officer. He might have information about Lizzy._ Daud drew his sword from its sheath and gripped it tightly, point down, and checked he had a bolt ready in the the small bow braced along his wrist.

'For high treason,' the captain continued, 'I hereby sentence you to death. Ready. Take aim. Fire!'

The executioner raised his pistol to Thorpe's head as Daud leapt. He landed on the executioner's back, the blade entering his shoulder. They fell, knocking Thorpe onto his side. Daud twisted around, his right hand still gripping his sword, and raised his left arm towards the captain. He flicked his wrist back, sending a bolt from his bow through the paper still held in the captain's hands. The sword was deep in the executioner's shoulder but Daud pushed it further, down into his chest, and twisted. Thick rivers of blood oozed out around the sword. Daud yanked it out of the man under him, letting the red deluge flow. Daud stood and rushed to the viewing platform.

He jumped over the rail and knelt by the captain, who was opening and closing his mouth. One hand clutched the torn and crumpled paper while the other reached vaguely for the spike in his neck. Daud swatted the captain's hand away and slid it out. The captain managed a wet gurgle, blood bubbling on his lips, before Daud stabbed the red bolt into his eye.

Daud wiped some of the blood on the captain's jacket and returned to Thorpe. There was blood in the officer's moustache and his face was shiny with sweat. Daud cut his bonds.

'Why did you save me?' Thorpe said, rubbing his wrists. There was no fear in his voice.

 _He'd already accepted that today would be his last._

'I'm looking for Elizabeth Stride,' said Daud. 'A gang leader out of Draper's Ward.'

Thorpe nodded. 'The whole place heard her come in. She's in cell C28, it's on the very top level.'

Daud grunted his appreciation and turned away.

'There's a mechanism,' Thorpe said, 'to open the cells. In a hut overlooking the yard. Just set the dials and pull the lever.'

Daud nodded and walked to the yellow pipe. The Overseer music was still rattling in his head as he climbed up to the grate. Through the slits he could see a guard by the controls for the main gate. Daud wrapped his fingers around the flaking metal as tight as he could and gave it a sharp yank. The bolts, already a little loose, shifted out a little more. Daud twisted one and pulled it out. A minute later he had moved the grate aside and slipped into Coldridge.

He found himself high above the entrance hall, squatting on pipes that no doubt made up part of the ventilation system. To his right was the scorched remains of the main gate, the bridge to Dunwall Tower beyond. The ventilation pipes curled off to the left. Daud followed them.

The Overseer music was blocked by the thick stone walls. Daud felt lighter, like there was air in his bones. The back of his left hand tingled as warmth spread down his arm and into his chest. He stepped quickly along the pipes, his feet stepping with barely a thought, his whole body moving intuitively. Beneath him was a long hallway bordered by tall gates leading to the cell blocks. Guards paced around, making idle talk and glancing over their shoulders. There was fear in the air.

 _Whoever that spy they caught is, they've got everyone scared_.

At the far end of the hall stood an arc pylon, five feet of black metal with a glowing blue light at the top. Some short barriers were scattered around it seemingly as an afterthought. Lightning danced along its tiered rings and thick cables snaked away across the floor into a control room and a sealed box on the wall. The guards walked by it nervously, giving it as much space as possible.

The gate to cell block A rose halfway up the high wall, not meeting the ceiling, leaving a huge gap into the cell block. _They must not expect anyone to climb that high._ For Daud it was an invitation. He looked down at the pylon below and judged its range. Powerful as they were, the pylons could only kill what they could reach. He sank down on the balls of his feet and, pushing all his strength into his legs, sprang forward into the air. The pylon began to whir menacingly and the coils of lightning expanded. Daud raised his left hand, clenched his fist, and the world stopped.

Everything was grey, the walls, the guards, even himself. A silence so loud it pressed on his ears surrounded him. Daud was suspended in unmoving air, thirty-five feet above cold concrete. He looked to the top of the gate to cell block A, focused on the thin metal, and released his fist. Colour came back to the world in a vicious rush of sound and movement. Daud felt as though a hand had gripped around him and pulled him forward, crossing the hall in an instant, leaving him squatting on top of the gate. Behind him, the pylon chimed as the threat passed.

One of the guards looked at it and said 'What was that?'

'Probably just rats,' said another.

The cells were arranged in tiers with walkways for those above the ground, the highest of which was almost level with the top of the gate. Daud jumped from the gate over the rail, his feet in their padded boots resting almost silently on the grated metal.

A guard leaned on the rail along the walkway. A key dangled from his belt on a large ring, loose. Daud kept low and crept up to him and reached for it, but the guard stood back and walked away. Daud shadowed him for three paces and then lunged, wrapping a thick arm around the guard's neck and squeezing his throat. The guard scratched at the leather of Daud's sleeve but soon went limp. Daud hefted the dead weight onto his shoulder. Looking around Daud saw an open cell in a dark corner at the end of the walkway. A20 was painted in front of it on the floor. Inside were two bunks bolted to one wall, several crates, and a table with playing cards and coins strewn all over it. He lay the body on the top bunk, tucking it out of view, and snatched the key from the guard's belt.

 _Now to find C28._

Daud followed the walkway around a corner, checking the numbers painted on the floor. When he saw what he was looking for he stopped and looked through the bars at the shape at the far end of the cell.

 _Lizzy Stride. She's in rough shape._

Lizzy was on her knees, her arms and head locked in a metal stock. Her eyes were almost closed, the lids flickering, her breathing ragged and uneven. One side of her head was shaved bald and lank, black hair hung over the other side. Her skin was darkened with grime, her clothes almost black with filth. She looked weak, broken.

 _I need to get this cell open. The sooner the better._

Daud continued along the walkway until he came up against a door. Locked. He peered through the key hole to check the coast was clear and saw only another door and a staircase leading down. The key taken from the guard fit the lock and Daud slipped through, closing the door quietly behind him. Through the slits in the grated floor he could see two officers pouring over a ledger two storeys below. He ignored them and moved on, exiting through the door opposite.

The numbers on the floor now began with D. All the cells were sealed behind heavy, black shutters and there were boxes all over the floor far below. Daud didn't waste time wondering what they were for. Across the block was another gate. Like that to cell block A it didn't reach the ceiling. A guard stood beneath it smoking. In a moment Daud had blinked onto it.

The hall below him connected the yard with the interrogation room. There were two doors beneath the sign for the yard, one high and one low. A guard walked out of the high door and down the steps into the hall. Daud seized his chance and blinked to the high door, slipping through without a sound into a wooden corridor. The corridor snaked around the interior wall of the yard until it ended in a control room overlooking the dismal grey space below. There was a machine against one wall with three dials set on top next to a red lever. The first dial showed the letters A to D. The other two showed numbers. Daud set the first dial to C, the second to 2, and the third to 8, then pulled the lever. A green light turned on and the sound of gears turning made the machine rumble.

 _Someone's bound to notice. I'd better get back to Lizzy._

He hurried back to the gate to cell block D and blinked his way up to the gate, then the walkway. A minute later he was stood outside Lizzy's cell, the door now open. He went inside. Lizzy's head hung limp, her chin resting on the cold metal stock. Her breath was shallow. She didn't seem to realise anyone was standing right in front of her.

'Wake up, Lizzy.'

She stirred in her restraints, blinking her tired eyes open as she raised her head as much as she was able to look at Daud. 'Uhgn. I'm not tellin' you shi... wait.' She narrowed her eyes, tried to focus. 'Who?'

'Daud.'

'Is that right. Whoever sent you, I'll pay double.'

'I've come to break you out. You can owe me the favour.'

'What kind of favour?' she said, looking at him closely.

Daud waved a hand. 'Does it matter? You'll be dead in another day here.'

'What. Kind.'

'It's just a boat trip, upriver. Past the blockades.'

Lizzy almost smiled. 'Then you're out of luck. My boat, the Undine, now belongs to someone else. My second in command double-crossed me and took it. A little shit named Edgar Wakefield.'

'It's a situation I'm familiar with.' _Billie. I should have known you'd be trouble._ 'Can you walk?'

'Get me out of this damn thing and I'll fly. I can pay you to get rid of Wakefield.'

'It'll be my pleasure.'

'Pull that lever, it'll undo the shackles.'

She tilted her head to the lever beside the stock. Daud pulled it and Lizzy's shackles fell the floor with a echoing clatter. She fell forward and slowly lifted herself off the ground. Her legs shook and she stumbled as she stood up, clutching her side.

'Daud... I think...' Lizzy collapsed.

Daud stepped forward and caught her before she hit the ground. She was completely limp, a rag doll in his arms. He lowered her to the floor and pressed a finger to her neck. He waited. One beat. Two. She was still alive, just unconscious.

 _I'll have to carry her out._

He lifted Lizzy onto his shoulder, her feet dangling in front of him, and stepped out onto the walkway. He hefted her up more securely on his shoulder, his hand resting on her behind.

Daud suddenly felt a pang of longing and regret, like a splinter in his heart. _When was the last time I touched a woman? The fight with Billie. And before that... the Empress..._.It had been so long, so many years, since he had touched a woman without the intention to harm her. How many had he killed? A dozen? Two? And then there was the Empress, the one he would never get over. Since then there had only been Billie. He had beat her down in front of his men, spared her life only for the guilt he still felt for the Empress. And now, for the first time in a long time, he meant no harm. He was here to help save this woman, this thin, weak girl draped over his shoulder.

Something swelled inside Daud, some emotion he was unable to recognise that made his throat tight and his chest ache. He moved his hand along Lizzy's back, feeling the shape of her, the frailness. He wanted to shield her, from what, he didn't know. Something was happening within him, something unfamiliar. He made for the open cell, A20, and lay Lizzy down on the lower bunk. He sat beside her, staring.

Lizzy's face was dirty. Her hair hung limp and greasy down one side of her face, the black tendrils so like the tentacles of the octopus tattooed across her shoulder. She had a scar on the left side of her mouth that bridged the gap between her cracked lips. Daud watched her chest rise and fall in slow rhythm, the evidence that she was still alive, that she had survived contact with him. He reached his hand towards her, then pulled it back. He took off his leather glove and dropped it on the floor. Slowly, softly, he placed his hand on her cheek. Gently, he stroked her face, feeling the coarseness off her sea-weathered skin and the sharpness of her cheekbone. He rubbed his thumb against her lips, parting them so he could see the sharp teeth beneath, filed to sharp points, yellow and jagged. Almost without thinking, Daud's hand moved down and cupped one of Lizzy's small breasts. It was firm under his palm. He squeezed it, watching her face for signs of consciousness. His hand traced the contour of her stomach and came to rest on her crotch. He could feel her warmth through her pants and his hand lingered for a moment before following the line of her leg down to her feet. He ran his thumb and forefinger over each one of her toes.

 _Not webbed. I'd often wondered._

Lizzy had remained dead to the world as Daud felt her body. He watched her closely as he tickled her bare foot. Nothing. She was out, her small body pushed beyond the bounds of exhaustion.

He knew what he was going to do, had decided to do it as soon as he put his hand on Lizzy's body. But he sat beside her for a few moments so he could pretend he had shown restraint, convince himself later that he had considered not doing it before giving in to his loneliness, his need to touch someone as a human, not as a target.

He unbuckled Lizzy's belt and dragged her pants off, dropping them beside his glove. Her pale legs were thin and at the top of them was a thicket of coarse black hair, short and curled and abundant. He run his fingers through it, over her, tracing the outline of her opening, warm and dark pink. He pushed a finger inside her, her skin wrapping around it tightly. He moved it back and forth a few times before forcing a second inside, his pulse quickening, his thumb moving in circles through her pubic hair with no care for what it touched.

Lizzy was still unconscious as Daud took off his other glove, the black mark of the Outsider as vivid as the day he had first received it on the back of his hand, and dropping it with the rest of the clothes on the floor. He undid his own belt now, pushed his pants down to his ankles, his cock already hard and swollen. Without hesitating he climbed on top of Lizzy and guided himself inside her.

He moved slowly at first, unsure if this would be enough to wake Lizzy. Her eyes remained firmly closed, her entire body motionless. Daud went faster and faster until he abandoned his restraint. He lifted her legs up and rested her ankles on his shoulders, thrusting as deep inside her as he could, ignoring everything but his own pleasure. He unbuckled her leather waistcoat and lifted her shirt. Her pasty skin was spotted with dark bruises, some going yellow at the edges. Long, shallow-looking cuts were healing on her belly. Daud traced them carefully with a finger before his hands moved up her body and covered her breasts, rubbing and pinching her hard nipples as he panted, her tightness squeezing his cock like a velvet vice.

He kicked his pants off completely and lifted her up. He carried her over to the card table and cleared it with a sweep of his arm, cards fluttering to the floor as coins clattered and chimed around his feet. He bent Lizzy over the table and spread her legs apart. He continued to fuck her, one hand squeezing the flesh of her bum, the other stroking along her back and her hair. With a pleasure he hadn't felt in years, that he hadn't been sure he could feel anymore, he came inside her, every inch of his body tensed as all his power and vitality funnelled through his cock and into the woman in his hands. His fingers bit into her bum hard, leaving red marks behind as his orgasm surged and then faded into light-headed bliss, his body drained and tingling.

He stepped back and sat on the bunk as he watched a thin trail of his cum dribble lazily from her hole and into the forest of her pubic hair.

When his breathing had slowed he put his clothes back on and moved Lizzy back to the bunk so he could dress her again. He stroked her face once more before lifting her onto his shoulder.

 _Thank you._

Stepping out onto the walkway of cell block A was like waking up from a vivid dream. The entire world had fallen away while Daud was in the cell and the realisation that it was still there, still existing independent from him, made him feel momentarily dizzy.

The background noise of the prison stretched as he blinked to the top of cell block A's gate, Lizzy clutched tight in his arm. Daud looked down at the arc pylon below. The distance to the pipes was too far to Blink without jumping first. But with Lizzy it would be difficult. _If I miss... If she gets too close..._

Daud returned to the walkway and lay Lizzie down. If he didn't know different he would have thought she was dead. He went back to the gate and jumped in the air, Blinking again to get over the pylon. Two guards were stood by the control room. Daud crept to the edge of the pipe and Blinked behind one of the small barriers, keeping his body low, more concerned with the pylon sensing him than the guards. The air nearby crackled and the soft scent of smoke drifted around. Daud, lying on the floor, knocked another bolt into his bow and loosed it into the cable running from the pylon to the box on the wall. It sparked with a _crack_ , the bolt catching fire. The pylon went dark with a low whine and the guards whipped around.

'What the hell?!'

Daud shifted to the other side of the barrier as the guards rushed over. He stood up and jumped in the air, holding his Blink so he could aim himself at the top of the gate. He gathered Lizzy up as the guards tried to stamp the fire out. One Blink down from the gate, another Blink to the pipes above the guards, and Daud was away. He moved slowly, navigating the narrow space with Lizzy, careful not to fall. He put her down beside the grate leading outside and crawled through, pulling her out after him.

The bodies in the execution yard were still lying where he had left them. Thorpe was nowhere to be seen. Daud felt the lead weight of the Overseer music once more. At once his body seemed tired, older. Lizzy, small as she was, got heavier on his shoulder. His left hand felt colder. He climbed down the vent pipes to the ground laboriously, eager not to drop Lizzy. He made his way back to the prison wall and dropped over the side to the ledge. It wasn't long before Daud was down the old staircase. He put both arms around Lizzy as he hopped down into the canal, bracing himself to land in the muck. There was a thick _squelch_ as he landed, his boots sinking into the mud. Slipping slightly, Daud trekked back to the sewer entrance. Thomas was waiting for him with another assassin. Daud put Lizzy in his arms.

'She's beaten but not dead. See that her wounds get attention.'

'It will be done,' said the assassin. He bowed to Daud and was gone in a blink, taking Lizzy with him.

'All quiet, sir. Ready to go?' said Thomas.

Daud thought of what he had done. He was aware he should have felt remorse for using Lizzy the way he had, but he couldn't find it inside him. He needed what he had taken from her, he knew that to be true. And, despite the circumstances, he felt a fondness for Lizzy, a bond that he did not wish to sever. The feeling he was unable to describe in the prison came to him now, clear and strong. He wanted to protect her. He wanted to keep her safe. Maybe, just maybe, he could find some form of redemption through her.

Daud looked back at the cold temple that was Coldridge. 'Let's go,' he said. Thomas held open the sewer gate and Daud began the journey home.

THE END


End file.
